You're Not Me
by Tempest2004
Summary: Chase's thoughts on his life in general. Songfic, Oneshot. Please R&R!


I'm writing a lot of oneshots aren't I? I need to get some of these out of the way before I think of a sequel to My Apprentice, My Girlfriend. Well, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Guan, Dashi or Chase. The song belongs to the person who sang it for the Yu-Gi-Oh! Movie, who's name I don't know.

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Chase snarled and kicked a small footstool across the room. Those worthless, interfering, annoying Xiaolin brats. He smashed a vase on the fireplace mantle in his bedroom and threw the flowers into the ever-burning fire. He picked up a book, one of his favorites and chucked it into the fire and threw the rest of books in there as well. It didn't matter what he destroyed, he could always wave his hand and have it fixed, repaired or replaced. Everything except his failed attempt at turning and _keeping_ Omi evil. If he had just rid himself of the other monks himself, instead of trusting that ridiculous Chi Creature to do it for him, he'd still be ruling the world.

_You think I've got it all _

_You think I've got it made well _

_How come my only friends are the ones I pay? _

_No one understands _

_What I would do to change my life for just one day _

Of course, it wasn't _all_ their fault. It was that pathetic weakling Spicer, or his good half anyway and that pitiful excuse of a dragon that had unraveled his plans. How was he to know that Spicer would actually do something _right_? Well, there's a first time for everything, huh? Giving a mirthless laugh, Chase smashed another vase and winced at the pain in his hand. Glancing down at his hand, he sighed and pulled the glass piece out and watched in used-to-it disgust as his wound immediately healed itself. The dragon. That was what allowed him to heal almost instantly. That Trine-Be-Damned Dragon.

_Don't say if I were you _

_Or tell me what you'd do _

_Or how things would be if _

_You were in my shoes _

_Cuz you're not me _

Would he drink the potion again, if the opportunity was offered? No, he wouldn't. No, Chase would kill Hannibal Roy Bean, snap the neck on that bird and live out his days as a Xiaolin Monk, even if it meant getting old and gray. It would be better than this cursed existence. What had he given up his soul for again? Oh, yeah. Beauty and power. What an idiot. Some mornings, when everything was peaceful and serene, Chase would wake and stretch and have to remind himself that he was an evil overlord, not a Xiaolin Monk and Guan or Dashi would not be in soon to laugh at him as he _finally_ rose and went through his morning routine. It was that reminiscent some times.

_You know what I need _

_And it's not another serenade _

_I get so tired of all the things you say _

_So give me what I want if you only knew _

_I would I'd gladly throw this all away _

Then there were those mornings, or days rather, that he would like to go back to bed and curl up under the blankets and go back to sleep. But of course he couldn't, evil overlords just couldn't do that. Not that he wouldn't like to someday's of course. Who wouldn't? Then there were the Jack days. The days when Jack would show up and wouldn't go home until one of the Cats dragged him home and even then he wouldn't stay away. On those days, Chase sincerely wished that the old Roman amusement of throwing people to lions was still around. Jack would provide wonderful entertainment. The Roman people would have loved to hear him scream like a girl and tear around the Coliseum and eventually be caught and eaten. Chase had been a big fan of that particular form of entertainment. He was even one of Ceaser's guest one time.

_Don't say if I were you _

_Or tell me what you'd do _

_Or how things would be if _

_You were in my shoes _

_Cuz you're not me_

Well, being an evil overlord did have it's perks. I mean, it wasn't all bad. He wasn't expected to have any particular type of religion and he wasn't picked on about looking like a girl anymore. No, those comments died when he turned Heylin. No matter how much he tried to deny it, Chase was human. Chase still wished for love, laughter and joy. Hell, he'd even take pleasant amusement. He hadn't planned his life to turn out like this. He had wanted a wife, children, grandchildren. Kids to love and a wife to appreciate. He had despised doing his own cooking, but now... Well, now he enjoyed it. The only television was in his kitchen and that could only get in the Food Network. Not that Jack hadn't tried.

_Please take me as I am_

_This isn't what I planned _

_But I don't expect that _

_You can understand _

_Cuz you're not me _

Dashi had tried to change his mind from being evil, Guan had only shunned him. Chase had expected it to be the other way around. But it wasn't. Guan, his best friend, turned his worst enemy. If Chase didn't know better, he'd have thought that Dashi had expected him to turn back, to stop being Heylin. Oh, well. _C'est la Vive_. It was amazing how many languages Chase had learned. Unfortunately, most of them were dead now. Including his favorite, Latin.

_I know you think you're bein' nice _

_But spare me all your lame advice _

_Time to play my hand and role the dice _

_Everybody's got their price_

With a bitter laugh, Chase remember the greeting he'd received from the Heylin side. From it's then Prince of Darkness. He'd been laughed at and almost thrown out, like he was doing to Jack now, but he had fought back, obliterated the opposing forces and challenged the Prince to a fight, which he won. Like he was doing to Jack now. That thought made him stop, made him wonder. He remembered pumping Omi for information about the other world, claiming he was curious, could remember parts of it, that he wanted to know more about it.

_For far to long I've been denied_

_I'm makin' my move so just step aside _

_No one can say I never tried _

_To do everything to get back my pride _

_Hey, you were never me _

_Why can't you see _

_That you're not me_

That been the partial truth. Chase could remember parts of it, and liked what he could remember, made sure to put those in his memory, so he could look at them, late at night and wonder what that life would have been like. Maybe, he could be good again, find an antidote for the Lao Mang Lone soup. Restore his soul. That'd be nice. To be able to fight for good again. To not have people wince away from him, be able to look in a mirror again. What a dream.

_Don't say if I were you _

_Or tell me what you'd do_

_Or how things would be if _

_You were in my shoes _

_cuz you're not me_

He'd asked himself several times before, when he was feeling good and when he was feeling like this. Would he drink the potion again? If he had the opportunity? The answer had always been 'Yes' or 'No'. But now, thinking about. Really thinking about it, would he? The thing that troubled him most when he thought about it was...

_Please help me if you can _

_This isn't what I planned _

_But I don't expect that _

_You can understand _

_Cuz you're not me_

He didn't know.

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Please R&R!


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